


Going home, I met him...

by lolahardy



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:41:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolahardy/pseuds/lolahardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur and Eames meet on a bus</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going home, I met him...

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by my love [Leesha](http://darlingleesha.tumblr.com)!

+  
 _Arthur_

  
Arthur took the M80 bus from work to his apartment complex every single day. Most days, it was a bland and uninteresting ride, the bus filled with people he recognized from the everyday commute but he never talked to. Most of the time, he had his ear buds in his ears as he read through whatever novel he was trying to work through in the hour ride to and from work.

On warm days, the bus had good air conditioning so it was never bad unless the bus was overcrowded on those rare days. On cold days, it was the best bus to be on, the heat circulated evenly. The only time the bus was insufferable was when it rained then there were puddles and wet spots everywhere and Arthur would struggle to find a clean seat.

The spring was just coming, the mornings cold enough for a jacket or hoodie and in the afternoon, it would come off. Arthur was in his seat near a window, his ear buds in place when he felt the bus coming to a stop. He didn’t look up but did a mental count on how long it would be before the bus moved again and sure enough, on the last count, the bus began to move. Arthur looked up to move his hair from his face when he saw a stranger on a seat across from him. He was new to the route but that was nothing unusual; now and again there were unfamiliar faces, visitors, tourists, lost people. But this one was different. He wore work boots and dark blue jeans with a navy coat he carried on his lap, his plaid button down undone slightly and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had some scruff on his face, his hair slightly tamed though there were some cowlicks in the back. From his profile alone, Arthur could see he was good looking and he found himself distracted by looking at the new passenger.

All too soon, Arthur’s stop came and he got up and left, sighing to himself about the stranger, thinking he would never see him again.  
The next day, on his way home, the stranger boarded the bus again. Arthur bit back a smile, nibbling on his bottom lip as he glanced up from his novel to see the good looking stranger again, this time in a different pair of jeans and a short sleeved white shirt, same coat on his lap. He sat in pretty much the same spot and Arthur was able to look at him without really being noticed.

For the rest of the week, the stranger was on the bus every day and on his route home, Arthur would look at him, no longer even faking reading his book as he found himself starting to develop a crush. He knew nothing about this man, yet Arthur couldn’t help but watch him, notice his different clothing, his hair, when he shaved, when he didn’t, sometimes he wore boots, sometimes he wore trainers. Going home was starting to become the best part of Arthur’s day.

One day, the stranger sat a little closer. By luck, his usual seat was taken so he sat in the seat right across from Arthur. Arthur looked down atthe novel he was pretending to read, though he hardly paid attention to the words. He glanced over to the stranger and saw he was carrying a hoodie today, wearing jeans, a black shirt and trainers. He had a few scratches on his knuckles and Arthur wondered what had happened. He was close enough to see some bracelets on his wrist, a watch on the other. Then the stranger turned slightly and looked at Arthur and they both gave a polite smile to each other. When Arthur looked away, he felt the heat rising on his face and he brought his hand up to his ear bud, trying to hide the fact that he was blushing like an embarrassed child.

  
+  
 _Eames_

  
Eames wasn’t entirely too pleased having to take the bus to and from work since his car died. Every attempt to fix it only seemed to further condemn the auto. Eames had to give up after several failed tries and just took it to the shop he worked at. The bus was his last resort but it dropped him off close to his apartment and it was right in front of his shop so...things could have been worse. All those thoughts of despair and annoyance changed however, when he noticed the cute boy in working clothes a few seats down. He almost wished that he could have gotten a seat closer but he was made content when said boy got up from his seat first and left the bus at his stop.

Needless to say, the view was nice coming and going.

Every day after that, getting on the bus home wasn’t too bad, especially seeing that boy. He was always reading something, earbuds in his ears, proper dress clothes on him. He was so dressy and clean and Eames sometimes found himself tucking his fingers into his fists to hide the filth from the day at the shop. Eames couldn’t even think to bother him when clearly he didn’t want to be disturbed though, his eyes focused on the novel in his delicate looking fingers. But he was nice to see when Eames himself got on and then when the cute boy left.  
Then one day, an older woman took the seat Eames usually took and he could have kissed the old bird for giving him the opportunity to sit closer to the well-dressed boy. He was in his usual office attire that switched up but was always a combination of; dress pants, oxfords, jumpers, all dark or earth tones. That day he wore black dress pants and a white button down with a blood red sweater vest, his coat on his lap, and his messenger bag beside him. His dark brown wavy hair was kept short and brushed back properly, the collar of his button down crisp and white and he was busy with his book as always. Eames sat down in the seat across from him and toyed with his hoodie string, hiding his filthy fingernails and cursing at the scrapes from working with the engine block that day, wondering if he should say something. But when he looked at him from the sides of his eyes he saw he was still reading. He decided to keep to himself, hoping that maybe one day, he wouldn’t be so busy.

He turned to look at him again, wondering how old he was, admiring the curve of his ear, the way a stray lock fell from behind the soft looking shell. His neck was long and slender and Eames could imagine putting a dark bite dark mark there and he bit his lip again. God, he was lovely. Then, suddenly he looked back at him. He smiled and the boy smiled back and when the boy turned away, Eames had to bite his lip from grinning like a loon. They made contact! It was polite though, and he wondered if this was his in to at least say ‘hello’ when the bus came to a slow stop and Eames felt himself lurch forward slightly. He then saw the boy gathering his bag over his shoulder as he stood up and walked down the aisle, before getting off to he begin his walk. Eames watched him as the bus pulled off and he sighed as he fell back against his seat.

Damn, he had missed his shot. Maybe tomorrow.

Of course it rained the next day and with the day Eames had, he wasn’t feeling too good as he stood under the slight awing of the shop, getting soaked. When the bus finally made its way to the designated stop and opened the doors, Eames ran in, swiping his card as his eyes took a quick scan to see the office boy. Even though the seat he originally sat in was free, he took the closer seat to the office boy and sat down. He had been sitting there, trying to come up with something to say so in case he did think of it, he could turn and say it.  
But nothing was coming to him yet.

He glanced out the window to his side, thinking to himself: _‘Should I comment about the weather? God what am I, a thousand? Of course he knows it’s raining. Maybe something about...the trip? Fuck why am I so bad at this all the sudden? I should ask him for the time. What kind of tosser doesn’t have a mobile nowadays.’_

But he didn’t get his chance. The bus came to a stop and Eames turned to look at the office boy, his bag already slung over his shoulder as he got up. Once he stood up, Eames looked up at him and smiled, office boy smiling back before he left.

Eames cursed to himself, slouching against the seat as he turned his head to watch him walk home as the bus pulled off.

The next day when he got to work, his coworkers told him his car was fixed. Eames actually felt disappointment as he said,

“Oh...so soon?”

His coworker, Dom looked at him, smudged with grease on his cheek, his hands filthy as he tried to clean them off with an old rag as he said,

“Yeah, soon. I figured you would be relieved.”

“Yeah...I am thanks mate.”

Eames eventually took his car home on his break and took the bus back because damned if he was going to miss talking to the cute office boy on the bus going home.

  
+  
 _Arthur_

  
It was days after that incident and Arthur kept trying to tell himself to work up the nerve to talk to the stranger. His friend Mal, whom he had told about the handsome stranger, encouraged him to talk to him, to at least say ‘hi’, and Arthur said he would every day, but so far he had not done anything.

On a rainy evening, the stranger boarded the bus, his hoodie soaked through from waiting, he took a seat across from Arthur again. He had started to sit there more recently - which Arthur took as a good sign and Arthur kept trying to talk himself up to say something. He tapped his foot, jiggling his leg as he tried to think of something witty to say, anything and before he knew it, he was at his stop. As he stood up, his eyes met with the stranger and he once again exchanged a polite smile.

Arthur kept beating himself up the whole way to his apartment.

He was getting tired of seeing Mal’s disappointed face every day he got to work and had to tell her that he once again said nothing. At lunch, as Mal had her salad, she said,

“Just say ‘hi’! You spent the whole ride trying to think of something when all you could have said was ‘Hi”.”

Arthur sighed, moving around his chili as he said,

“I have to say something. This is getting ridiculous.”

Mal only agreed.

That day, on his way home, Arthur didn’t remove his novel from his messenger bag, didn’t have his earbuds in and waited for the bus to stop at the stranger’s usual stop. When he got on, the stranger walked towards the usual seat he took. When he sat down, he looked at Arthur and gave a smile and Arthur took that as his cue. He clutched his bag close to him as he slid over to the edge of his seat, waiting for the stranger to look at him and once he did, Arthur swallowed hard and asked,

“May I join you?”

The stranger gave a crooked grin as he slid over and let Arthur sit beside him. Once he was settled in, relief in his chest, Arthur looked at him again and said,

“Hi. I’m Arthur.”

“Eames.”

“It’s good to meet you.”

Eames agreed, as he turned a bit to look at Arthur better.

“Coming from work?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Yeah. I see you here a lot.”

“I take this bus every day. You just started right?”

“Just moved into the neighborhood. The stop after yours.”

Arthur nodded and he bit his lip trying to keep the conversation going when Eames asked,

“Would you like to have dinner tonight?”

Arthur smiled again, sitting a bit straighter as he said,

“I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up tonight at seven.”

There was a pause as Arthur looked at him strangely and said,

“Uh, how?”

“Oh, I have a car that I just got repaired.”

“Then why are you taking the bus?”

Eames chuckled softly as he ran his fingers through his messy hair and looked at Arthur.

“I was trying to work up the courage to ask you out.”

Arthur blushed, deeply and it spread to the tips of his ears and Eames instantly loved it. He made it his mission then and there to get Arthur to do that as often as possible.

“Oh…”

He gave a nervous laugh as Eames kept smiling at him before he took out his cell phone.

“Can I have your mobile, for tonight?”

“Oh, yeah...of course.”

Arthur gave him his number and then got Eames’ in return just as the bus came to his stop. He looked up as he said,

“It’s my stop...so tonight?”

“Yeah. I’ll call you.”

“Ok. I’ll see you then.”

Arthur got up then, sliding the strap of his bag over his shoulder as he began to leave only to glance back at Eames, seeing him looking back at him, still smiling. Arthur gave a small wave, his face still pink, which Eames returned and he turned back and got off the bus.


End file.
